


Bed & Breakfast, aka "The Thing"

by mangocianamarch, ocaptainrogers



Series: Le Livre de L'un par La Dame Marciana [8]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Aidan can cook, Dean can't and also he's lazy, Domestic Boyfriends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:40:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/pseuds/mangocianamarch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocaptainrogers/pseuds/ocaptainrogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which kitchen sex leads to tired, lazy boyfriends who can't sleep once awake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed & Breakfast, aka "The Thing"

**Author's Note:**

> What started as an exchange of headcanons and ideas turned into what affectionately was called "The Thing." Why "The Thing?" Because we were three authors urging each other to "WRITE IT WRITE THE THING." It started with one person, and then someone continued it, and then someone else continued it, until finally WE HAD A THING.
> 
> And to think it all started with a size kink that resulted in a sore butt.
> 
> I put together all the written snippets, which can be found [here](http://beornsbees.tumblr.com/post/54443363049/mangocianamarch-replied-to-your-post-include), then [here](http://mangocianamarch.tumblr.com/post/54456480051/cont-of-the-sore-butt-thing-aidan-hums-and-for-a), then [here](http://beornsbees.tumblr.com/post/54459163652/mangocianamarch-beornsbees) and finally [here](http://kilivanily.tumblr.com/post/54463785249/beornsbees-ow-fuck-what-was-that-for-aidan).

Aidan loves that Dean is smaller than him.

It’s far too easy, really. Whenever they’re kissing close to a surface, say a kitchen counter, he just drags his hands down to Dean’s butt and lifts him up by the thighs, and just puts him on top of the kitchen counter and moves in between his legs and snogs him.

Like now.

Dean fists his hands in Aidan’s shirt, one hand moving up to his hair, because he loves Aidan’s hair and can’t keep his fingers out of it. Then suddenly they’re naked, and Aidan’s about to start prepping Dean, but the lube is in their bedroom.

Dean gets impatient. “What’s taking so long?” he whines.

“Don’t have any lube,” Aidan groans, “You think olive oil would work?”

Dean huffs. “Yeah, whatever, just _fuck me already._ ”

\--- + --- + --- + --- + --- + ---

Aidan hums, and for a brief moment, Dean feels bad for waking him up, but that's only until he feels a hand sliding over his lower back and down until it reaches his arse. Dean snorts when Aidan gives it a soft squeeze and leans in to press their lips together.

"Mmffmffmfmfm," Dean mumbles against Aidan’s lips.

"Butt," is all Aidan says, chuckling low, mouth still pressed to Dean’s, “Perfect little butt."

"That’s all you ever want from me," Dean mock-whines.

"But it’s so pretty," Aidan replies sleepily.

"I was about to feel bad about waking you up," Dean answers, “But if you’re going to be like that…"

"I’m always like this," remarks Aidan, who gives Dean a generous squeeze.

"What do I see in you?" Dean shoots back.

Aidan just laughs and kisses Dean properly. "Love you, Dean," Aidan mumbles and lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He’s still tired.

“Yeah, love you, too," Dean mutters, but he’s still smiling and can’t keep himself from running his fingers through Aidan’s hair.

“Mmmm, keep doin’ that."

\--- + --- + --- + --- + --- + ---

Dean can’t go back to sleep again. The light seeping in through the crack in the curtains is too bright and the noise of cars flying by outside is too loud, and worst of all, he’s not even tired anymore. Aidan’s still sleeping soundly, though, with his mouth slightly open, cheek pressed against the pillow. And on top of that he’s  _snoring._

Dean sighs and comes to the conclusion that if he can’t sleep, then Aidan shouldn’t be allowed to sleep either. He lies there for a moment and stares at him, studying ever millimetre of his face, trying to find the best way to wake him up.

He doesn’t like to be prodded awake, so Dean tosses that idea right out the window. Aidan hates it when Dean calls his name loud enough to stir him, too. 

"Aidan?" he tries, just to make sure that he’s really sleeping.

Aidan snores on.

"Oi, Aidan," he says again, a bit louder this time.

Still no reaction. 

He was really trying to come up with new ways to wake this sleeping log of a boyfriend, but settles on the method he knows always works. Propping himself up on his elbow, he leans down, plants a kiss on Aidan’s cheek, maybe a bit harder than necessary, then brings his hand up to tangle in Aidan’s hair and kisses his lips.

"Mmm," Aidan hums against his mouth, winding a lazy arm around Dean’s waist.

"Awake yet?" Dean asks.

"Don’t wanna be," comes the sleepy answer. But then another arm wraps itself around Dean, who suddenly finds himself very much on top of a very awake Aidan.

"Oi," Dean pouts.

"Teddy bear," Aidan mumbles, eyes still closed, a lazy smile on his lips.

"You’re supposed to wake up," Dean whines, wriggling in Aidan’s grasp.

"Keep doing that, something  _will_  be up," Aidan snorts, grunting when Dean takes him up on the challenge, “I was dreaming, Dean."

"It better have been of me," replies Dean.

"Shut up," Aidan demands, “I’m trying to get it back."

Dean pokes him hard in the rib with a finger.

"Ow, _fuck_ , what was that for?" Aidan whines and pouts, but his hands tighten around Dean’s waist.

"Make me breakfast," is the first thing that comes to mind and as predicted, Aidan doesn’t approve of being ordered around when he was just dragged out of the most pleasant dream.

"Make it yer-fuckin-self," Aidan grumbles and rubs at his tired eyes, still with that ridiculous pout on his lips.

"But you’re so good at it," Dean says, and rests his head on Aidan’s chest when he can’t be bothered to keep it up anymore.

"I don’t care, I’m not gettin’ outta this bed."

"Yes you are."

"No, I’m not," Aidan huffs and rolls over to his side again, tightening his hold around Dean until he’s almost being squished into his chest. Not the worst position to be in, but he’s hungry and grumpy and being locked in by a giant tired Irishman isn’t helping.

He pulls his head away with a huff, cheek red where it’s rubbed against Aidan’s skin.

"You need to up your game, Turner. You know I only keep you around for the all-day catering service."

"I see," Aidan murmurs, eyes closed, “first you try flattery, now you go for a low blow. Not your smartest move. I was actually considering your request up till you said that."

"Shut up, no you weren’t."

"Oh, I was." Aidan lifts an eyelid for a split second; his smirk is even more fleeting. Bastard. “I was thinking, hmm, yes, I  _am_  rather adept at cooking, I  _am_  the only one in this relationship lacking the compulsion to set fire to everything in the kitchen, we  _do_  have a tin of those garlic button mushrooms Dean loves so much in the cupboard. Then I thought, well, I am, after all, a lovely boyfriend, maybe I’ll…" He breaks off to yawn, covering his mouth with his hand then letting it flop back against the pillow. “Maybe I  _will_  make us breakfast. That’s what I thought. Thought. Past tense. Now you can fuck right off."

Dean curls back into his side, aiming a little knee jab into Aidan’s side. He barely reacts. Dean sweeps a hand over his chest instead and sighs, closes his eyes, settles in. For a moment, they’re both quiet.

"Seriously though," Dean says after a while, “breakfast."

 

**_~ END. ~_ **


End file.
